


We'll Be Counting Stars

by Dexiha



Series: Song based fics [3]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Depression, F/M, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, M/M, Post-War, Self-Harm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-05
Updated: 2018-07-05
Packaged: 2019-05-28 08:28:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,348
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15044900
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dexiha/pseuds/Dexiha
Summary: Prompt number 160, prompted by GoldenTruth813:Counting Stars by One Republic





	We'll Be Counting Stars

**Author's Note:**

  * For [GoldenTruth813](https://archiveofourown.org/users/GoldenTruth813/gifts).



> There are a few things in here that differs from the special request, but I hope it's okay anyways, GoldenTruth..?
> 
> Special Request:  
> 5 years after the war Harry is miserable, ignoring his depression and hating his career as an Auror; looking for anything to make him feel alive. Draco helps him see there are less self-destructive ways to feel alive.
> 
> Thanks to A for betaing the fic. Your help is worthy of a gold medal!

* * *

_Lately I've been, I've been losing sleep_

_Dreaming about the things that we could be_

_But baby I've been, I've been praying hard_

_Said no more counting dollars, we'll be counting stars_

_Yeah, we'll be counting stars_

 

During the past month, Draco has healed the same wizard seven times. Every one of those seven times, the wizard in question has been accompanied with an unique explanation as to how he became injured. It would’ve been understandable if he had been an Auror who either was very bad at his work or so good he was regularly sent on the most dangerous quests. But Draco knows otherwise; Harry Potter had surprised everyone except Draco (and possibly the two Granger-Weasleys) by dropping out of Auror training two days after it started. After that, it seemed like Potter disappeared from Earth because it had been five years since then and no one had caught a glimpse of him .

 

For Draco, however, it is a completely different story. Ever since he became a fully qualified healer, he regularly meets the other man. And every time it is because he is very badly hurt, close to the verge of death, and only accepts Draco as his healer. Naturally, they have gotten to talk quite a lot during all those hours they both spend at St. Mungo’s, and thereby also earned an equal understanding of each other that they share with no one else. Not even Granger and Weasley truly knows about the sides of Potter that only get to be seen by Draco.

 

And if their feelings are mutual, all this is because Draco is the only one who feels the same and therefore truly can understand. Both of them are struggling to feel alive: to earn, create, and have a reason to live. For Draco, the solution is to save people, to give life to others. For Potter, it is to constantly balance on the line between life and death. 

 

_I see this life like a swinging vine,_

_Swing my heart across the line_

_In my face is flashing signs,_

_Seek it out and ye shall find._

_Old but I'm not that old_

_Young but I'm not that bold_

_And I don't think the world is sold_

_I'm just doing what we're told_

_I-I-I-I feel something so right by doing the wrong thing_

_And I-I-I-I feel something so wrong by doing the right thing_

_I could lie, could lie, could lie_

_Everything that kills me makes me feel alive._

 

As Draco once again enters the emergency hall and makes his way to the room where he always heals Potter up, he thinks how ironic it is that he, who always have made the bad decisions, is the one that chose the rational alternative this time, while Potter, who supposedly always does the right thing, chose the destructive way of life this time.

 

When he reaches the emergency room, his brooding instantly stops as he sets his mind completely on the unconscious body laying on the table. The entire room feels tense from the overload of magic in there. After a quick status check, Draco ascertains that the magic is coming from several stasis charms being used to keep the wizard alive. Even though this in itself certainly isn’t good at all, Draco still feels relieved that the stasis charms aren’t used to keep Potter’s magic intact because that would mean that he’d have to fight his wild magic while operating. As Potter’s magic is _bloody strong,_ it isn’t something Draco fancies much. 

 

As usual, the first thing Draco does is to remove the glamour Potter has put on himself so that all the injuries are revealed. Despite being used to seeing wounds and fractures and blood, he still draws in a sharp breath when he can see all the damage. He doesn’t waste any time though, and immediately starts to heal everything as efficiently as he can. It doesn't take very long, and despite a few close calls, this is far from the worst time he’s had to save Potter. Yet it's getting extremely tiring to watch the man destroy himself like this.

 

While waiting for the wounds to heal up and all the charms to settle, Draco sits down and just watches Potter as he lays there, relaxed, and wonders about how things have developed for him during the time he's been assigned as Potter’s only healer. Mostly he thinks about how increasingly scared he is every time he sees Potter’s name on his board. And he realizes that the reason this scares him is because he knows Potter will be close to dying, and that's something he really doesn't want to happen. And opposed to what most people would think, it's not because he's afraid of ruining his clean record as a healer, or because he's afraid of failing. It's because he's grown rather fond of the man, and he'd hate to lose him. 

 

_Lately I've been, I've been losing sleep_

_Dreaming about the things that we could be_

 

Preoccupied with his inner monologue about his feelings for Potter, the man in question wakes without him noticing.

Hence he jumps when he hears a raspy voice whisper, “You're still here. Thought you'd be gone on another mission to save people.”

“No, Potter, my shift has ended so I don't have to be anywhere. And before you ask, yes, I'm using my free time to sit here by you.”

If Potter is waiting for an explanation as to why Draco uses his free time to watch over him, he isn't getting one.

“Right…” he murmurs a few moments later. “Thanks. For staying. And healing me.”

Draco draws a deep breath and closes his eyes briefly to settle himself before he answers. “Listen Potter, I don't want your thanks. Not anymore. This is happening way too often to make a ‘thanks’ matter much. An ‘I'm sorry’, however, would suit perfectly, because…” Another deep breath. “Because you're hurting a lot of people by living this way. The Weasley family for one, but especially your best friends. I've also been at the same mind healing group sessions as Seamus Finnigan. He told us about his relationship with Dean Thomas. But that was something he told everyone. After the session he went to talk with just me. About you. Because he's scared as hell he’s gonna lose you.” In passing and very quietly, he also adds. “And maybe the most scared of it of us all, am I.”

When he looks up, his eyes meet Potter's, whose green eyes are staring widely at him. It’s clear by the way three certain muscles are working in his face that he's thinking. It's always the same muscles, Draco has noticed. Silence fills the room while Potter thinks, but Draco barely notices. He's too distressed about the fact that he may have said too much. He might lose the most important friendship he has.

“You're right. I am sorry. I really am. I hate that this is hurting those I love. But I don't know what else to do. I don't know any other way to be sure of who I am. And that I am alive.”

“I know, Potter. I really do. But I swear that this isn't the only way you can make yourself feel alive.”

“Will you help me?”

“What?”

“Finding a new way to feel alive?”

Before his brain can fully understand what's going on, he hears himself saying yes. 

“Yes, Potter, I will. How about we start over a cup of tea? We just have to stay here a couple of more minutes until all potions and charms are settled on and in you, then we can head to my place. Oh, but Potter, I have one condition: I won't have to heal you up once more because of your crazy self-harming activities.”

“Deal.” Draco has seen a lot of smiles on Potters face during the past months, but never have them been as real as the one being there now, and if Draco had any doubt in this plan before, it all disappears with that smile.

 

_Baby I've been, I've been praying hard_

_Said no more counting dollars,_

_we'll be counting stars_

 

During the next month, Draco finds himself sharing quite a lot of tea cups with Potter as they work through different hobbies, jobs and activities that might interest Harry and give him that certain feeling of life. Yet Draco is quite certain that Potter has started to look healthier. Maybe it's truly just wishful thinking from his part, but surely his face is more colored? And his eyes are starting to shine like they did when they were at Hogwarts, right?

 

With a light shake to his head Draco retreats back to reality and focuses on the brochure laying in front of him on his tea table. It's one about drawing lessons, with a purpose of ‘helping everyone broaden their minds’. And despite him being relatively good with the pencil — Draco has seen him doodle a bit in class — it's yet another thing that Potter apparently doesn't want to do, just as everything else they’ve gone through hasn’t managed to catch Potter’s interest. Neither is flying jets or mountain climbing or even Quidditch. Even though it should be getting on Draco’s nerves, he can’t really find it in himself to get mad with the other man. The lack of interest in finding a new hobby gets weighed up quite well by the otherwise pleasant company he provides. Though, in between the feeling of happiness and content Draco has, he’s also aware of that he most certainly is falling in love with Harry Potter, and _that_ is scaring the life out of him. 

 

_Lately I've been, I've been losing sleep_

_Dreaming about the things that we could be_

_But baby I've been, I've been praying hard_

_Said no more counting dollars,_

_we'll be_ — _we'll be counting stars_

 

“Alright, Potter, what about this then. Alternative rock band, _the Sound Seekers_ , they have this far recorded five songs on Spotify, and they’re searching for a new bass player. They’re searching for someone with a lot of energy and a story to tell. Maybe we could listen to their songs and see? You have the story to tell them.”

“Hmpf, yeah, we could listen, I guess.”

In a swift move, Draco pulls out his muggle smartphone and starts to open up his music app. 

“Wait, you have a phone? A muggle phone?” Potter asks in astonishment.

“Yes, I do, it’s an easy way of interactive communication between people, and the simplest way for me to keep contact with Pansy and Theo. Why?”

“Eh… nothing…”

The conversation is then interrupted as Draco clicks the button that causes the tones of _Stay_ to flow out in the room. In the end it was another misstep. Well, both of them found a new band to listen to, but they still didn’t have anything that could solve their problems. And it has been _weeks_. Not that Draco minded, but he had another work to take care of. 

“Hey, Potter, why don’t we call in Hermione and Ron? Maybe they can help us. They should know you better than I do anyway.”

Even though he nods, Draco can see that the light in Potter’s eyes die a little.

 

Instead of the cup of tea that Draco had planned, it got sorted that all of them — Draco, Potter, Hermione and Ron, Seamus and Dean, and Luna and Ginny and Neville — would meet up at the Leaky Cauldron for a night out, but they’d ordered a separate, isolated room so they could discuss the matter at hand privately. When they’re settled at the table and have their drinks in their hands they start talking about everything and nothing to keep the silence away.

 

They all know that the problem with Potter must be discussed, yet, it’s a touchy subject and they’d rather talk about anything else. When they’ve received their main dish, however, Draco decides it’s time. He briefly describes what he and Potter have been doing during the last weeks and proceeds to ask the other occupants at the table for their help. Everyone immediately expresses ideas, all of which Potter just shakes his head, and by the time their dessert comes out, most of them are feeling quite hopeless, and Draco resents how alike the feeling is to the one he gets when he sees Potter lying on his operation table. And how alike it is the hopelessness one feels when The Dark Lord occupies your house and thoughts and your entire life. In an attempt to lighten up the mood in the room, he asks if they may let the subject go for now and instead focus on having a onforward pleasant evening together. Happily, everyone agrees, and soon they’re all talking and shouting. 

 

Quite a few drinks in, Draco found himself sitting closer and closer to Potter, and it wasn’t only of his own accord. Every now and then one of the others would sit down between him and Luna and he’s forced to move closer to Potter so they’d have enough space. And at times he could feel how Potter as well moved closer to him. Though, the only reason he actually notices this is because he’s constantly watching Potter. It seems he’s sucking in the positive energy emerging from his friends, for even though he’s barely drinking any alcohol, he still gets the certain glow of someone who’s completely forgotten about the reality outside the bar. It’s a rather beautiful look on him.

“Hey, Malfoy, you wanna go with me and get the next round?” Ron’s voice suddenly sounds and Draco is drawn back from inside his mind.

“Yeah, sure.”

On the way to the bar desk they are silent, but as soon as they arrive and know for sure no one can hear them, Ron opens up.

“Listen, I just wanna thank you.”

“Thank me? For what?” 

“Everything you’ve done for Harry. I mean, not just this trying-to-find-a-hobby-thing, but everything. I know you’ve saved him countless times at St. Mungo’s and…”

“124.”

“What?”

“I’ve healed him up 124 times this year.”

“Wait, he’s in _that_ often?! And we didn’t know?”

“I don’t know. I just… kept track on every time he was here.”

“Bloody hell, you two! Well, beyond just healing him every time he’s been out on his… things… you’ve also kept him company, talked to him about things he can’t talk with me or ‘Mione about. Yes, I know you two have been talking, but I don’t know what about, I just know it’s different from us others. Also, you’re the only one that makes him smile.”

“That’s _not_ true, he smiles all the time.”

“ _Malfoy!_ You know what I mean. Those real smiles of his. I haven’t seen one in years, until today, and it was because you talked about Hogwarts and Potions before. He used to hate Potions, but today he smiled when you talked about it, and he finally looks alive again.”

“So you’re saying…”

“That I think it’s _you_ that make him feel alive. _You_ are giving him life back. And I think he rather likes you. So do I.”

 

_I feel the love_

_And I feel it burn down this river every time_

_Hope is our four lettered word,_

_make that money watch it burn_

 

Their drinks arrive and they make their way back to their room in silence, as Draco is completely speechless. They settle down at the table but Draco doesn’t join any of the ongoing conversations. His mind is too crowded for him to be able to focus on anything anyway. Ron thinks that Harry _likes_ him. And he thinks that Harry needs Draco to start live his life again. The thought makes something flutter in Draco’s stomach, and he realizes that the thought of Harry — _bloody hell, it’s Harry now!_ — liking him lights up a rather strong light of hope inside him. But can he really trust Ron that much? He didn’t know about Harry hurting himself as often as he did, even though they’re best friends. And if it’s true, what should he do about it?

 

_Old, but I'm not that old_

_Young, but I'm not that bold_

 

“Are you all right?” Harry’s voice sounds close to Draco’s ear, sending shivers down his back.

“Yes, I’m fine, just thinking.” Draco answers truthfully.

“About what? Did Ron say anything?”

“No. Yes. Well, he did say something, but it wasn’t mean or anything. We talked about you. I didn’t realize they didn’t know how often you were admitted to the hospital.”

“Uhm… no. I didn’t want them to worry… and they wouldn’t have let me do it if they knew…”

“And for good reason, Harry.” A haste intake of air makes Draco realize it’s the first time he’s uttered the man’s first name out loud.

“Yes, I… I know…” Harry answers breathlessly. “But I’m better now, I think. I don’t feel so… dead anymore.” 

“I’m glad to hear that. I do have a few ideas as to how we should proceed from now on, but those can wait for a more convenient time to be discussed. As you might remember, the remainder of this night is only supposed to be enjoyable. You want another drink?”

The rest of the night flows on contently and as the following day is Sunday and Draco isn’t on call, it isn’t until the early hours that they all finally walk their separate ways home. Or, not completely separate, because after some discussion it’s decided that Seamus Dean and Harry are going to spend the last hours of the night by crashing at Draco’s place.

 

_And I don't think the world is sold_

_I'm just doing what we're told_

 

Half the Sunday is used to sleep in, and it isn’t until past noon that they all wake up and eat a very late breakfast. And despite them having nice conversations and a pleasant meal together, the present couple are quite quick to leave with a mumbled explanation about having to be somewhere else.

 

With that, Harry and Draco are once again left alone in Draco’s flat like so many times before, but somehow this time feels different. Draco doesn’t know how or why and neither does he know if Harry can feel it as well, but surely there is something that’s changed, right? When Draco looks up from his plate of eggs he meets Harry’s intense stare.

“What?” he rasps and Harry clears his throat before answering slowly.

“You told me you and Ron talked about me. What did you say?”

“Uhm…” Oh no. Never has Draco been so tongue-tied. Usually he had no problems lying if he needed to, even though he didn’t like to do so. “I… We… Well, he said thanks… he appreciated that I helped you out… and he said he accepted me…”

“Right.” In an instant the heavy atmosphere is gone and Draco can breathe normally again, but he can’t throw off the feeling of that it was he that ruined the moment. “Then, what were those ideas of yours you talked about yesterday?”

With the sudden change of subject, Draco feels a little dizzy, but hurriedly makes work of himself and answers. “Well, of all the activities you’ve rejected, the ones that however have hold the most interest for you are the ones that occur on a high distance above the ground, and a lot of speed. Quidditch isn’t an option because the pitch isn’t wide enough for you to have enough space to fly around as much as you want to, right? And the jet plane is too — what was it you said? Too canny, as in too much like a can. But yet, these were the ones the most interesting. So maybe we should continue from there on?”

“Uh, sure. You have any flyers or anything we could look through?”

 

After settling down in Draco’s living room, they spend the afternoon reading and occasionally chatting about this and that as they usually do. What’s not really as usual though is that they now are sitting in the same corner of the sofa and from time to time they accidently bump parts of their body together as they move for another brochure or to turn a page. Except for the pressure building within Draco, and especially in his trousers, it is very convenient and the fluttering feeling returns to his stomach. Time goes by unbelievingly fast and all too soon it’s time for Harry to go home. Like he always does, Draco follows Harry to the door and silently watches him pull his outer robe on. When finished, Harry meets Draco’s eye and opens his mouth as if to say something but nothing comes out. Instead he just shakes his head and turns toward the door. Without realizing it, Draco calls out to him.

 

_And I-I-I-I feel something so wrong by doing the right thing_

_I could lie, could lie, could lie_

_Everything that drowns me makes me wanna fly_

 

“Harry, wait.” Almost as if he had been longingly waiting for it, Harry hastily spins back, causing him to almost trip. By reflex, Draco catches him before falling, and suddenly they’re standing very close. 

“Yes?” Harry whispers.

“I… we…” They get interrupted by a swoosh coming from a nearby window and when they look over they see that there’s an owl sitting there.

“McGonagall.” Harry expresses, sounding surprised. “What does she want?”

“No idea… let’s check it?”

They make their way over as soon as they’ve untangled themselves from each other and Draco retrieves the letter attached to the bird’s leg.

 

_Dear Mr Malfoy and Mr Potter,_

_It has come to my attention that you are searching for work and/or an activity for Mr Potter. After some arrangements, I suppose you could say, I may have a solution for you, if you would be interested in hearing it. If you are, and I greatly hope so, you are welcome to respond with a time that’s convenient for you to meet me at the Three Broomsticks during next week, with this owl, so that we can discuss it._

_Warmest greetings,_

_Minerva McGonagall_

 

“What do you suppose it could be about?” Harry asks from behind Draco, his breath against Draco’s neck sending tingles in Draco’s skin.

“I have no idea… but it sounds… interesting… don’t you think?”

“It does. But I also have something else that might be… interesting…”

“Hmhmm? What… could that be?”

“Well, during those weeks, no, months that we have spent together, I have come to realize that maybe it isn’t an action that I need to feel alive. Maybe there’s this person that… makes life worth it…”

“Really? I never thought.”

“You didn’t? Because I was hoping you had — why didn’t you?” Suddenly, Harry pushes himself flat against Draco’s back and his warmth makes Draco’s brain short circuit, causing him to no longer be in charge of his own words.

“Right, I did think it. But I didn’t dare say it, in case that person would turn out to be the wrong person.”

“And who’s the wrong person?” Harry asks as he slides his fingers along the hem of Draco’s trousers.

“Ouf, any… anyone… but me…” Draco pants.

“Lucky for you, I’d say, _you_ are the right person.” With strong hands, Harry turns Draco around and captures his lips in a kiss. Immediately, Draco sighs into it and kisses back, burying his hands into the other man’s black hair.

“Yes, I’m lucky. How about you stay here tonight… so we can answer that owl together tomorrow.”

“Deal.”

Without ever letting go of each other they make their way to Draco’s bedroom, making sure that they close the door entirely as a precaution in case McGonagall’s bird would get the idea to fly after them.

 

_Lately I've been, I've been losing sleep_

_Dreaming about the things that we could be_

_Baby I've been, I've been praying hard_

_Said no more counting dollars, we'll be counting stars_

_Lately I've been, I've been losing sleep_

_Dreaming about the things that we could be_

_But baby I've been, I've been praying hard_

_Said no more counting dollars, we'll be-we'll be counting stars_

 

The morning after, Draco wakes up early to a pleasant warmth laying next to him. He smiles happily at the memory of the night before as he watches Harry’s relaxed features. He smiles even broader as he realizes it’s the first time he’s seen Harry asleep and this relaxed without it being related to one of his visits at St. Mungo’s.

“You gonna watch me all day, blondie?” Harry mumbles.

“With my knight in shiny armour looking as beautiful as he does, I don’t see that as a problem,” counters Draco. “But if you object, maybe we should go write a reply for McGonagall? After all, we have to do it before I have to leave for work.”

With this new plan for the day, they go on to follow it. Since Draco only had the first two shifts at work, they both had the afternoon, unlike they would for the rest of the week. Therefore, they decide that they’d prefer to have their meeting that afternoon. When done with writing the letter as well as breakfast, Draco takes up his coat from his chair, gives Harry a chaste kiss and leaves the house with feather-light steps. 

 

The afternoon unfolds to the picture of Draco and Harry apparating together to Hogsmeade, well before the time set for them to meet McGonagall. That leaves them the opportunity to slowly walk through the village and take in the small differences there, compared to when they went to school. Despite being a quarter of an hour early when they arrive, McGonagall is still already inside the restaurant. With a greeting that’s not even close to as stiff as Draco had thought it would be, the three of them sit down with a drink each and immediately jump into business.

“Gentlemen, as I told you in my letter, it I have come to know about your attempts of finding something that might catch Mr Potter’s attention in such a way that it can keep him content with his life, am I right?”

“Yes, ma’am,” both of them answer. 

“Am I also right to assume that you still haven’t found anything as you are here sitting with me tonight?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Well, then. I will proceed to tell you about my suggestion. But I will not have it with either one of you interrupting me until I am finished. So during the past five years I have had Professor Curtis hired as the Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher. But he is now feeling that it is time for his retirement which leaves me with an empty spot. I am aware that this is not the most exciting choice of career, but first, I already know of your qualities as a teacher Mr Potter. And second, I don’t think you’re in need of any more action in your life, Harry.”

The use of Harry’s first name clearly has an effect on him, as well as on Draco, because the statement suddenly feels more true. “I certainly do understand if you don’t have any interest in this Mr Potter, but I’d be happy if you at least considered it. Do you have any questions regarding what I’m asking you about?”

“Actually, I do have one.” Harry says, surprising Draco. “Thanks to all the time I’ve spent with Dr- Mr Malfoy, we have… sort of… entered a relationship and…” It suddenly dawns upon Draco what Harry’s saying and he immediately blushes a deep crimson. “I was wondering, if I am to work here, won’t it be awfully inconvenient for us if he’s still in St. Mungo’s? After all, it’s quite far away.”

“Yes, that is true, Mr Potter. But in fact, I do have an solution for that as well. It all depends on Mr Malfoy’s interests of course, but as a matter of fact, Poppy Pomfrey went into retirement some time ago and right now there is no true Medi-witch or -wizard there, leaving a space that Mr Malfoy could take. Of course, the salary won’t be the same as in St. Mungo’s but I can stretch into at least rising his payment due to his education and clean record. What do you think?”

For the second time that week Draco is rendered speechless.

“I… I…”

“Of course, you don’t have to decide it now, gentlemen.”

“We’ll take it.” Draco says determinedly. “I’m fine with working here instead of St. Mungo’s and honestly, we can’t leave the poor students without proper medical resources can we? No offence to you, McGonagall, I’m sure your skills are exemplary but…”

“Indeed, Mr Malfoy, they are not enough. If both of you are sure about this then may I invite you up to the castle so I can hand you the paperwork?

 

_Oh, take that money watch it burn,_

_Sink in the river the lessons I learned_

_Take that money watch it burn,_

_Sink in the river the lessons I learned_

_Take that money watch it burn,_

_Sink in the river the lessons I learned_

_Take that money watch it burn,_

_Sink in the river the lessons I learned_

_Everything that kills me makes me feel alive_

 

**_Two years later_ **

Draco makes his way down the snow-covered hillside to the gates leading to Hogsmeade and the little house he and Harry are sharing. With all the snow, quite a lot of students had been in need of small healing charms after several snowball fights and others needed Pepper-Up due to colds and flus going around the castle. Harry is already home, and luckily for Draco that means that when he opens the door he is greeted by the scent of freshly-baked bread and lasagna. When he enters the kitchen he’s instantly wrapped by Harry’s arms and peppered by small, loving kisses on his cheeks. Lastly, Harry leaves a kiss on the tip of his nose before retreating.

“Welcome home, princess. Dinner is ready.”

“Thank you, my knight.”

They both get seated and start to eat. 

“Hey, Drake, I was wondering…”

“Hm..?”

“You’re happy here, right?”

“What?! Of course I am! Where does this come from?”

“Well, it’s just, I am happier than I have ever been here with you and there is so much about it that I have to thank you for and… you’re not only making me feel alive, but you are my life. I feel like I never want this to go away or stop or… well, so the only way I came up with to solve this was…” Harry reaches for a wine glass behind him and hands it to Draco. Draco can see that it’s a fine glass with beautiful silver carvings decorating it, and knowing Harry’s habit of spoiling him at times, he can imagine that it’s a one-of-a-kind glass. Instead of being filled with wine however, there is a single silver band laying in the bottom of it. “That we should get married. So, Draco Lucius Malfoy, would you like to become my husband?”

Without even bringing the ring out of the glass, Draco just looks up from it and smiles at Harry.

“Yes.”

 

_Lately I've been, I've been losing sleep_

_Dreaming about the things that we could be_

_Baby I've been, I've been praying hard_

_Said no more counting dollars, we'll be counting stars_

_Lately I've been, I've been losing sleep_

_Dreaming about the things that we could be_

_But, baby I've been, I've been praying hard_

_Said no more counting dollars, we'll be-we'll be counting stars_

 

_Take that money watch it burn,_

_Sink in the river the lessons I learned_

_Take that money watch it burn,_

_Sink in the river the lessons I learned_

_Take that money watch it burn,_

_Sink in the river the lessons I learned_

_Take that money watch it burn,_

_Sink in the river the lessons I learned_

* * *

 


End file.
